19 minutes agoAuthor: Mridulika Jha of Adarsh Nagar, Delhi
If you ask for work, people ask for paper. We have a green passport. Everyone gets angry when they see him. Many times the mob tied us up and called the police to say that they had caught the dreaded Pakistani terrorists in disguise. Somehow, lives were saved.
In the waning Delhi afternoon, I am talking to one of my backs. It is Ramji, who is not ready to show his face. Fearing that if the truth is told here, the rags of the family left there will be scattered. They say very gently: we are from Pakistan, but not from Pakistan. This is our country. As he said this, his throat was cut, but his hands did not stop as they struck, nor could he obtain citizenship here.
The back moves slightly. The voice was filled.
Apart from Gujarat-Rajasthan, Hindu refugees who came to India on religious visa from Pakistan are also settling in Delhi. “Settled” means: where debris is thrown, a corner of this land was cleared and kutcha huts were made. Tulsi chaura was planted in the courtyard and the tricolor on the rooftops. So much provision in the name of settlement.
In the rain, along with the water from the drain, snakes and scorpions also move around your yard. Summer heat causes death due to lack of electricity. There are no hospitalizations and no one is working, because after all, they were eating salt from Pakistan!
A family of about 150 Hindu refugees from Pakistan lives in AdarshIn Delhi, Delhi, a family of Hindu refugees from Pakistan. These people live by making kutcha huts in those places where garbage is dumped.
When we reach here via the outer ring road, the acrid smell astounds us. The smell of trash, garbage, stray animals and ‘non-citizenship’.
There is no way into the settlement, all the rubble is the only way. When we got to the front while stepping over the pile of trash, we met a little girl. Name – Immortality! From this earth is born this girl with deep black eyes and plump cheeks, but she has no role. Leaving him playing in the mud, we continue, where 28-year-old Tirath awaits us.
Arrow! Laughing he says- See, India is established in my name, even then my passport turned green. They show the passport and ask that it be blurred, or else the identity will be revealed. Then there will be devastation “over there”.
This young man from Sindh Tadonliyar, citing his four sons, says, he had to flee because of them. There are no babysitters in Pakistan. Anyone will pick it up and then the news won’t even be received. Everything from the girl’s name to her identity will be changed. If you protest, the same condition will happen to the rest.
Our women could not go out, no matter how old they were. If you were to bring vegetables or even a lighter, she would have waited for us to come back. The danger was increasing every day. We did the paper and left.
now what Are you happy now?
About our question, they are silent for a while. Perhaps the ghost of Pakistan does not give up the chase just yet. Turning his face, he says – We ran away, but the rest of the family stayed there. I talked to my dad last night. The house collapses in the rain. They were worried about what problems to deal with. The condition of the minority there is worse than that of stray animals. We farm, they make money. There are attacks on the house night and night. Sometimes money is looted, sometimes women.
What are the difficulties here?
The answer to the repeated question comes: there are many problems. without electricity without water Mosquitoes know it. The work is not available, because it is not recognized here, but it is still good. Mosquitoes drink blood, causing more and more malaria. Drinking dirty water will only upset your stomach. And what! Our women and children live without fear.
Meanwhile, Tirath’s wife comes with a cup of coffee from the kitchen. This slender and wonderfully nimble woman insists that, on her way back, she should have dinner at her house. She says: We will also tie it to your family members.
This is Tirath’s kitchen. Thatched lawn with four earthen walls. The only earthen stove in the middle, which Tirath’s wife burns (burns) by blowing on it in between.
A carved pot is hung on the balcony with the help of an old rope. This is a bowl. Identity of Sindh of Pakistan. To protect it from cats and ants, rotis are kept there. Height so that the eldest son of the house can take out the bread and feed the rest of the children.
When I touch it, I say: I brought only two things from there, this bowl and the sheets from there. Everything else remained. Family too!
They are talking to him right now, just then the sound of something falling is heard. A rat has dripped from the thatched roof. As I sigh and step back, Tirath says, If a mouse falls, be afraid! Here our children sleep among snakes and scorpions.
I am about to return, when Tirath takes out his dholak and sings the kalwad of Sindh, the local music of the Hindu community there. They are stuck.
After leaving here we met Ramji. Ramji in his 30s (age seems more) speaks on the condition of not showing his face. They say that when one of our brothers who lived here told the truth there, the two young boys of his family were slaughtered. The passports of the rest were confiscated. Since then we don’t talk there.
Ramji, who came to India on a religious visa 6 years ago, is continuously extending his visa, because he does not want to return. Remember- when crossing the border, the last step was in Pakistan. The next step was to take us to India. That step will always be remembered. Those who have been released from prison know the real meaning of freedom. We also broke out of a kind of prison.
Ramji is happy as he worships everyday by decorating small images of deities in the corner of the house, but he is also not happy here.
When a strong wind blows, the roof of the house moves away and falls several meters. You cannot build a house of pucca, nor find a work of pucca. Pakistan left, but its identity was not lost.
An informal school operates in a room in the house, where children whose admission the school does not agree to are taught. Anganwadi board is installed in front. A person with him says: people from the government came. He said if Anganwadi is started then small children will get enough food. We did yes. He went to hang up the board, then never came back.
This tilting board is waiting for release just like these refugees.
The story is still ahead, but before that, also give your opinion on this poll.
There is a sundries shop in the basti, offering crunchy snacks for the kids. Nearby is Hari Om Sahu who has been working for the people here since 2013. I ask: Are you associated with any NGO? They refuse We don’t need any NGO to take care of our family.
This very enthusiastic young man is a swimming coach in an institution and devotes the rest of his time to this settlement.
They say there are many problems. No paper, no trust. They have nothing but a passport. If it shows, then there is doubt. Do daily wage work. If the building breaks down, they collect the debris. Somewhere to pick up the trash.
Many people came for Haridwar, Somnath, that as God adopted them, the people here would also adopt them, but that did not happen. Many returned to Pakistan, to live in the same hell. They say many people came back from Rajasthan and Gujarat but how many they don’t know.
Why do people still come here? Hari Om says – There may be a million sorrows, but religious freedom is here. There it was such a situation that if the smoke went to the neighbor’s house while he was secretly making havanera, he would be brutally killed. Minority girls between the ages of 12 and 13 were picked up and kept in madrassas and then married to the father of four. Many of these families came here.
will you talk to us No! Now they are afraid of everything. A short reply arrives.
After much effort, a woman from the basti agrees to speak. Name- Ganga. Wearing a sliver red dupatta, this woman says as soon as she leaves, she could never speak opening her face there. If you go out on the road, you should be accompanied by a man and a long veil over your face. Even then someone will pick it up.
Ganga shows it with a veil and lifts it and says – We were women, there was this danger.
Ganga laughs at everything now, whether there is blood and mule when the water tanker arrives, or having to live without electricity in the melting heat of the road. There is only one hope: India should adopt us.
Taking the name from the above and asking that when you are from India at heart, take the role too, he says.
The blue board of Adarsh Nagar is visible on exit. Together, the political party flags are doing many munadiyas, but none of these for the Hindus who have left Pakistan. They are out of danger, but the sea of trust is yet to be crossed.
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